Kiss my Memories Away
by Sarah d'Emeraude
Summary: It was known to most that Daryl Dixon had a few heavy secrets. But sometimes, out of nowhere, a few innocent words were triggering things inside of him in a way nobody really understood. And this time, Paul "Jesus" Rovia realized a little too late that he had gone too far.


**Hey guys!**  
 **Sooo I guess I couldn't stay away from these two...**

 **So this is my first (real) work with this pairing and this fandom. I've posted a small one shot a few days ago, but this one is way longer. There's no spoilers, except maybe for the fact that it is happening after Negan. Wether he's dead or a prisoner in Alexandria, I'll let you decide.**

 **Anyway, I hope you'll like it, and as always English isn't my first language so I'm really sorry for the grammar mistakes in my text. Especially considering the way Daryl Dixon talks, ugh that was a struggle.**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Daryl slammed the door of the house people used to call his own with rage, letting the sound reverberate through the almost empty living room, echoing the rage burning inside of him. His eyes fell on the table in the middle of his living room, as he briefly considered passing his rage on the wooden surface, but shook the thoughts away quickly enough.  
He didn't have much stuff in this house anyway, and mostly used it to sleep and shower only. He was so busy with his hunts and all the food he had to bring to Alexandria and Hilltop to feed everyone -why did so many people decided to have babies lately anyway? that he didn't really take the time to live in this house, and call it a home like Eric and Aaron used to with their own. Plus, he was like a stray dog, never attaching himself to places but people, and he was ready to follow Rick everywhere even if it meant leaving Alexandria one day. He knew they were most likely meant to stay, now that Negan was out of the way and a new peace was installed in Alexandria with the alliance between the city, Hilltop, the Kingdom and the Saviors, led by Dwight. But he couldn't help it.

He heard the door behind him open then close again, and he knew the person he was currently angry at was standing right behind him.

« Go away » he snarled, childishly not turning back, fists closed by his side.  
« No, I won't » replied the man beside him.  
He could guess by the other man's tone that he was probably as pissed as he was currently, and it really didn't help the situation.  
« Are you gonna act like a child for the rest of the day or maybe try to talk a bit like a grown up? » Added Jesus, and Daryl snapped.  
« Are ya fucking kidding me right now? Now I'm the child? »  
He turned around, pointing an accusing finger to the younger man's chest.

« Ya're the one who found himself in a shitty situation and I had to save yar sorry ass, so don't talk to me about acting like a fucking child »  
« I was handling it! »  
« Nah you weren't! You was about to end chewed by the dead in no time! »

He repressed the need to scream, or hit something. He'd never hit the man facing him, no matter how tempting it was sometimes, but he couldn't say the same about the wall beside them.

« I was handling it » repeated the man everyone called Jesus, tone hard and eyes determined. « And you almost got bit trying to get me out of there when there was food everywhere, we hadn't seen that much in months! »  
« Ya wouldn't be there to enjoy the fucking food if you'd been eaten! »

Paul sighed.  
« Why are we even fighting about this? We're both alive and well. End of the story. »  
« Because you keep doing that! » Exploded Daryl, is anger not tammed for a second.  
« Doing what? Putting myself in danger for other people? That's what we all do, Daryl! I've always done it before, and no one even cared. Yet you're acting like a fucking asshole about it! Why are you being such a pain in my ass all the time? »

As soon as the words left his mouth, Paul immediately regretted it, and he knew he should have just shut up and not let his anger control him. But the man had the power to push his buttons and limits, and this time was no different. Daryl's shoulders fell, and he closed his mouth almost immediately. His posture reminded Paul of a young child who had just been punished by its parents, and the sadness that he could now see in the bottom of Daryl's eyes broke his heart.

« Daryl... » he began, but the other man shook his head.  
« 'right, I'm leaving now. »  
« Daryl, wait- »

But he was stopped by the loud noise of the front door closing, and the sound reverberating through the empty house.

Daryl didn't know for how long he walked in the streets of Alexandria, really. He only knew that he found himself in front of the gates at some point, and Rosita, who was on watch at that time, looked at him with surprise.

« What are you doing here? » she asked, skeptical as ever.  
« Imma get out for a while » he replied, wishing she could just let go of the topic and open the damn gate already.

But of course, that's not how things went. Because everyone was determined to piss off Daryl Dixon, obviously.

« You know I can't let you get out on your own » she said, crossing her arms over her chest. « You gotta get out with someone. »  
« Hell right I am » grumbled the man, feeling his anger coming back quickly.

He headed toward the gate and began pushing it himself, feeling his arms protest against the weight. He could hear Rosita protesting behind him, but he chose to shut her out, focused on his task. He only had a knife on his belt as well as a small gun with a few bullets left, as he had used them all to protect Paul a few hours before, but he couldn't bear to face the younger man again to fetch more weapons in his living room.  
When the gate was finally opened enough for him to pass, he let his body slide outside and his feet guide him toward the end of the road leading to the city. He knew Rosita was probably trying to warn Rick and the others, but he would be long gone at the moment everyone would be alerted. He needed some air, and he also needed time alone.  
The ache in his chest was still crushing his heart, and it felt like the scars all over of his back were in fire. Paul's words were stuck inside his head and he couldn't shake them out, no matter how hard he tried to think about something else. He could see the other man's face, his disgusted look when he had spoken these words, and he could almost feel his father beating the shit out of him with his belt, after saying these precise words again and again when he was but just a child trying to make his daddy proud.

He didn't know where he went, precisely. He knew it would end up to be a problem eventually, but he could probably trace his own steps back to Alexandria. It didn't matter at that time. His hears were ringing, he didn't even notice any walkers on the way, nor any humans for the matter. He knew back at Alexandria, some people were probably worried, Paul included, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

After a while, Daryl found himself facing an old house in the middle of the woods. It looked more like a small cabin than an house, but it peaked his curiosity anyway. The woods were silent, and so was the cabin, but he grabbed his knife carefully. He opened the door with caution, coughing a little when the sour smell of death and rotten wood hit him fully. He blinked a few times and stepped inside, always as careful, sighing loudly when he laid eyes on the scene before him. Some people were not made for this world, it was a fact. But it was always a shock to witness suicides, especially those which probably happened before it all went down and became the world it was today. The man who lived here, probably years ago now, had blasted his brains out with his gun. Daryl covered his mouth to approach the body, picking up the gun to put it in his belt next to the one he was carrying already.  
He looked around him, surprised to see how cosy and spacious the caban looked from the inside. It was only containing a few drawers, a fridge, toilets and bed but it was enough to live in, and would have been enough to survive for a while. Daryl stumbled to the drawers, opening a few of them with clumsy hands -trying to keep his shirt against his face all the while, and almost cracked a smiled when he found a few cans of beans and vegetables in them. Fighting the urge to throw up at the thought of eating something with that smell, he grabbed a can and left the house, before making sure he wasn't missing anything important anywhere.  
He walked a little bit, getting away from the cabin and killing a few walkers on the way. The can still in his left hand, he finally arrived to a little clearing, lightened by the first rays of the moon on the empty space. There, he found a tree to lie against, and opened the can with his knife in no time.  
Sitting in the grass, the sound of nature all around him with nothing else to focus on to, Daryl couldn't ignore the knot in his chest for long. He couldn't shake Paul's face and words from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He could see the hurt and disappointment on the young man's face, he could feel his words cutting trough his heart like sharp blades.

Why are you being such a pain in my ass all the time?

His back, seated firmly against the tree, was burning him like hell. He was reviving his father's lashes against his back, and hear his harsh world spitted in his ears. He felt himself shaking like he was a 5 years old boy all over again, and he hated himself for that. He felt weak, useless, and most of all, hated.  
Since the beginning of the apocalypse, Daryl had always felt that he mattered, in a way. He was still here, with the same group of people, or what was left of it anyway. Through the years, he had found himself friends, and eventually, a family. People that would look at him for advices, people who'd be proud of his hunting skills or the way he handled his crossbow. People who didn't care about the piece of shit he was before, or what he did, and didn't do. Somehow, the apocalypse had been a salvation for him.  
But he ended up being completely wrong about the whole thing. How had he been so stupid? He should have known that pretending to be a normal person, a great person even, wouldn't work forever. And Paul's words reminded him of the piece of shit he truly was, before all of this. Suddenly, Rick's words didn't matter. Carol's smiles didn't matter. Paul's jokes didn't matter. It was all fake, all of it. Things hadn't changed, and he had been a fool to believe otherwise. He was still the dirty redneck of the group, the one they'd be afraid of at the begging and would have gladly abandoned along the way.  
He threw the half eaten can away with disgust, watching it rolling in the grass with blurry eyes. Merle's words were ringing to his ears, echoing his father's ones. When did he become such a pussy? He got up, grabbing his gun and adjusting his knife on his belt, and began walking back to the camp. It didn't matter now. His father, Merle, they were all gone. And somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn't even care about them or what they said. But eventually, they were the only words that stuck to his mind. And let the others be damned.

When he set food in his living room again, Paul was still there. He was sitting in the couch, his face hidden in his palms. Daryl didn't make a sound, didn't even open his mouth or looked at the other man when he got up, and headed towards him.

« Daryl! Oh god I was so worried, I'm... »

He stopped when the man shifted, avoiding his hug. Paul's eyes narrowed, hurt clear in his pupils.

« I'm sorry, Daryl » whispered the younger man. « I truly am. I should have never said that. »

The archer ignored the apologies, placing the new gun he had stolen in the cabin on the table. He took off his sleeveless jacket, that he threw on the couch, and headed to the kitchen.

« Daryl... are you even listening to me? »

As childish as it was, the man still didn't answer. He could still picture his brother laughing at his face, and he couldn't face the other man. He was still hurt, and his body ached like he had just been beaten black and blue by his father all over again. He rinsed his hands in the sink, watching the dirt and walker blood fade away mixed with clean water, and closed his eyes.

He opened them again when Paul shut the water down, and grabbed Daryl's hands.

« Please, Daryl? Talk to me? »

Once again Daryl shoved the younger man away, and this time the hurt in Paul's gesture was evident. Daryl could feel that he was still looking at him when he turned around, heading to the stairs.

« So that's how it's going to be now? You're gonna give me the silent treatment and keep ignoring the shit out of me? I thought you'd be a little bit more mature than that. »  
« You talkin to me about maturity » growled Daryl, turning away at the end of the stairs, pointing at Paul's chest with one finger. « when all you capable of doin is stealing some shit along the road and getting into everyone's pants? »

He knew it was low, very low, and the heartbroken face Paul made when he heard the words confirmed that he went a little bit far this time. But there was no turning back after this, and all his anger was surfacing at once.

« I did steal a truck from you and Rick, so maybe I'm not that useless, right? » replied Paul slowly, like he was convincing himself as well as Daryl, and Daryl hated himself a little bit more for making him doubt his own worth. « And did you... did you seriously use our relationship to bring me down? » continued the younger man, just as slowly.  
« You wanted to get laid, you got laid » replied Daryl, shifting to look at him fully, eyes cold.  
« I can't believe this » muttered Paul, shaking hands running on his face like he was trying to get up from a bad dream. « Is that what you're calling it now? Like a simple fuck in the back of a car? »  
« It ain't anything more. »

In the back of his head, his father was clapping and laughing like he used to before all of this, his full throaty laugh he'd use when Daryl was getting into fights and winning it. His back didn't hurt that much now, but he couldn't say the same about his heart. He felt like it had just been crushed on the floor, torn in little pieces and crushed again. Paul's eyes were teary, he could see the young man struggling to avoid the tears in front of him, and it broke him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. But he couldn't go back now, and he didn't want to. Paul would have to understand that, and the redneck had no doubts that he'd find someone else real quick anyway.

« Okay, okay » whispered Paul, throat dry. « You don't mean that, Daryl. You don't mean... you don't. »  
« I do. »  
« Why are you doing this? »  
« I ain't doing nothing. »

Paul sighed.

« I obviously fucked up something, Daryl. But that doesn't explain... Why are you being so mean? Why are you saying those things to me, about us? »  
« There ain't no us, Paul » growled the older man, shaking his head.  
« Really? Cause you felt pretty real last night when you were fucking me hard against the mattress » replied Paul, voice cold and harsh.

Daryl had never seen Paul angry. Truth be told, he had seen him being pissed at Gregory multiple times, but he always ended up smiling at the whole thing and making jokes for everyone to relax. But this time was different. Paul was angry, his hands were shaking by his sides and a few angry tears fell on his cheeks.

« It's just sex » lied Daryl, feeling less and less confortable with the conversation.

He had dealt with worst. He had told people some of their own were dead, some of their loved ones had been bitten. He had dealt with people, before the apocalypse, that could have killed him in an instant. But facing Paul, the man he cared about so much even if he'd never admit to anyone even himself, was harder than he had thought. He felt dizzy, completely torn between his convictions, his family's words and the urge to take Paul in his arms to apologize and never let him go.

« So that's it, then? » asked Paul, as angry as before. « That was just sex? The entire eight months we spent together were just a way to get laid, somewhere to stick your dick into? »  
« I ain't like you! » spat Daryl, finally.

He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words passed his lips, but it was too late to take it back. Paul took a step back, as he had just been physically hit in the chest by Daryl's words.

« What? A fag? » he finally asked, after a silence. « That's what you're saying, Daryl? »

Daryl couldn't find the strength to answer. He knew he should have, he just have defended himself, or even nodded his approval. But he couldn't. Not when Paul was already shaking like a leaf in front of him, tears streaming down his face. He wanted the young man to let him go, cause he wasn't worthy of his attention, his love, and deserved better than a broken man who'd probably never admit out loud that he loved guys, fearing his new family's judgement because of his dead dad who used to beat the shit out of him when he found out.

« Wow. I... I don't even know what to answer to that » muttered Paul, rubbing his shaking hands against his wet face to erase his treaterous tears.  
« Then don't. »  
« Don't? Don't? » exploded Paul, now furious. « You're actually expecting me to just get on with it and step out that door never to return, that's what you're waiting for, Dixon? »

Paul had never once called Daryl by his last name. Probably cause he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind and god knows how, how triggering it was for the older man, to be linked to his shitty family. But there were no filters anymore at this point, and Daryl knew that.

« You better. You'll find someone else anyway » groaned the hunter, trying to repress a grimace.  
But of course, it sounded less awful in his head.

« Wow. You really do take me for a man whore » said Paul quietly, a single tear rolling down his cheeks. « Eight months after, and you're still convinced that all I want is your cock. I can't believe this. »  
« This is not what I was saying » snapped Daryl, who couldn't help it. « I'm not... saying that. »

He wasn't eloquent, but after all, never had been, especially during a fight. When he was he little child, he would often hide in the closet in his brother's room when his dad began fussing over stupid things, knowing he'd probably end up beaten till his tears were mixed up with his blood. A few times, when he was a little older, he had tried to fight back. But even adrenalin wasn't that strong against alcohol, and it had been even worst.

« Oh? So what were you saying, exactly? » asked Paul, trying very hard to control his anger.

His fists were trembling against his flancs, yet Daryl could clearly see that the young man was trying to calm down a little. It was so unlike him to lose his temper, that it made Daryl feel even worst. The claws around his heart were painfully reminding themselves to the older man, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

« I'm saying you should. Get out of here. You know, find someone else. Someone good for you, not some piece of shit who's gonna be a pain in your ass all the damn time. »

Paul let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a little while and opening them again.

« So that's what it's all about » he whispered with his usual calm.

His blue eyes were fixed on Daryl, and the older men felt a bit uneasy with the stare, Paul looked like he was studying him with attention, seing past his expression and into his soul.

« That's what I said, right? » Paul kept going, shaking his head. « That you were a pain in my ass. »

Daryl stayed silent, looking at his feet as if the top of his shoes were the most interesting thing ever. Bent like that, he looked like a child caught doing something bad, and Paul's heart ached a little more at the thought. He wiped his dry tears with the back of his hand, and took a deep, shaky breath.

« It triggered something, didn't it? »

Daryl huffed something under his breath, and Paul let out a shaky laugh.

« Holy shit. That's it. It all... oh fuck. It all came from here. I'm such an idiot. »  
« You were right » groaned Daryl, voice hoarse, still not meeting the other man's eyes.  
« No I wasn't. Daryl... I wasn't. And I put you in danger because I was a dick. »

Daryl shook his head.

« Wasnt' in danger. Not before the fight, not after. I know how to take care of myself. »  
« I never said you didn't, Daryl. I just... I'm so worried, you know? All the time. »  
« Why? » asked the older man, voice low and eyes quite not looking at the other man yet.  
« Because I care about you. »

There was a silence after these words, and finally, Daryl raised his head to look at his lover.

« Then why would you say this to me? »

He hated himself for the weakness in his voice, he hated himself for the tears that were threatening to fall down his cheeks, he hated himself for the way his body curled around himself.

« Oh Daryl » whispered the young man, and it was all it took for Daryl to let go of everything.

He was barely aware of the other man's arms around him, or even finding himself curled on the floor against Paul's chest. All that mattered in that moment was the fact that he felt safe, for the first time in a long time. He knew he should have been ashamed of himself, looking so vulnerable like that and somehow, a younger self would have shove Paul away, but Daryl let himself go for once. It took time, he didn't know how much exactly, for him to calm down a little. His breath was probably tickling Paul's skin as his head was hidden against his neck, appreciating the younger man's warmth and shushing sounds. Paul smelled like his shampoo, most of the time, but this once, it was mixed with a little sweat from the run earlier, and Daryl found the smell strangely comforting.

« I'm so sorry, Daryl » whispered Paul, kissing the top of his head multiple times. « God, I'm so sorry. »  
« It's okay » croaked the hunter, blinking his tears away, even if he didn't move an inch.  
« No it's not. I never meant to hurt you, Daryl. I never wanted you to suffer because of me. »  
« It wasn't you, Paul. »

He paused, closing his eyes and leaning further against the other man's chest. His front head was resting just below Paul's jaw, his beard tickling his brows with every breath.

« My dad used to tell me I was a useless piece of shit » whispered Daryl, the words flooding from his mouth without filters anymore. « When he'd beat me with his leather belt, he was reminding me how much of a waste I was, and most of the time, asking me why I was even there, being such a pain in his ass all the time. »

The grip around his body tightened, and he could feel Paul's breath hitching with his words, heavy with pain and unleash anger.

« When he began wondering if I was... You know. » He paused, not sure if he could keep going.  
« Gay? » proposed Paul with a small voice.  
« Yeah. That. When he began thinking I was, he started beating me more often. That is, until he died and I was left alone with Merle. Then all the apocalyptic shit happened, and… well. »

He stopped, not knowing what he could say now to light up the mood a little.

« I'm sorry, Daryl » said Paul once again, his left hand rubbing circles on the other man's back slowly.  
« And I am sorry too. » sighed the hunter. « The things I've told you... you know I didn't mean them right? I just wanted you to find... better. »

Paul shifted on the floor, forcing Daryl to look up at him.

« Don't say that. I don't want someone else, okay? Stop... stop trying to push me away, Daryl. Please? It hurts. »  
« I never wanted ya to be hurt » grumbled the other man. « Just wanted ya to be happy. »  
« I am with you. Wether you like it or not. Daryl… you have no idea how much I care about you, right? »

It felt like his question wasn't meant to be answered by his lover. Nevertheless, Daryl bit his lower lip, looking down once again. He felt like a child, but for once, he wasn't deeply bothered by the fact. He trusted Paul, with his life and heart, and it was one thing he would never doubt. He had always been afraid of commitment, love or friendship. But the apocalypse had given him all of this, a family, a love, a real home. And he wasn't that frightening anymore.  
So he just nodded awkwardly, reaching out his hand to caress Paul's lower lip, before bending over to kiss it slightly.

The kiss was chaste; more than any other one they'd share in the past. Daryl could feel that Paul was still shy and holding back as much as he could. He knew the guy, hell they'd been having this thing (thing that Daryl was not ready to name quite yet) for a little more than 8 months. Daryl knew how much the younger man liked to be kissed -all the time. Paul was always stealing kisses, in the morning when Daryl was still groggy with sleep, at night when he was snuggling against him or even during runs, « for good luck », before opening a door. Daryl, first uncomfortable with the fact as he had believed the man was only mocking him and his lack of skills, had soon understood that Paul was very found of little marks of affection. Groaning just because he could, Daryl was always returning his kisses and cuddles, because after all, it wasn't that bad.

But this time, Daryl could clearly feel that Paul was holding back. Probably because he was still ashamed of what he had said, or because he knew that Daryl sometimes was still shy with affections. So Daryl took the matter in his own hands, and raising his hand to grab the back of Paul's head, he forced their lips back together with more force. Their teeth smashed together painfully, but neither of them paid mind to that fact. The younger man whined low in his throat when Daryl's tongue found his way in his mouth, and they only separated when they were dizzy with he lack of air in their lungs.

« Daryl » groaned Paul. « Are we good? »  
« Don't we look good enough for you? » replied the hunter, trying to steal another kiss, but Paul turned his head.  
« I'm serious, Daryl. I just... I don't want that to happen again, okay? It hurts, really. Both you and me. You gotta stop trying to protect me from everything, and I have to be more careful with you, and our relationship. Okay? »

Daryl shrugged.

« Yeah, okay. Now can I kiss you? »

Paul laughed, a full throaty laugh that made his eyes sparkle and Daryl's heart sing in the most marvelous way. Getting up, the older man grabbed Paul by the back of his legs and positioned him on his shoulders, dragging him upstairs while he was laughing like things weren't shitty outside, and all that mattered was the both of them. Shoving him on their bed without preamble, Daryl smiled at the look of pure glee on the other man's face.

« I want you » said Paul when sitting up, finding himself in front of Daryl's pants, the older man still standing by the bed, fully clothed.  
« Well you got me » replied Daryl, taking off his shirt quickly.  
Paul's hands were already working on his belt, and the younger man pushed it past the swell of his ass, exposing his dirty boxers.

« Better take a shower » mumbled the hunter, suddenly very aware of how sticky and dirty he was after the run, plus his little escape in the woods.  
« Hummm » replied Paul, working on his own teeshirt now, « Depends. Can I suck you in the shower? »

Daryl groaned out loud this time, and grabbed Paul's hand to lead him to the bathroom. On the way, both men stumbled with their clothes, leaving them on the floor without regards. They would have time to deal with it later, after all.  
Stepping into the shower, Daryl began searching for the perfect temperature while his boyfriend was taking off his boots, leaving them at the door of the bathroom. Opening the curtain at last, Paul stepped into the shower as well, embracing his lover from behind with a content sigh. They let the water run down their naked bodies for a while, enjoying each other's presence. Then Paul grabbed the shampoo, pouring some on his fingers and running them down Daryl's scalp. The older man sighed with content, and let his head fall back, granting Paul a total access to his hair. The younger man began washing it with care, letting the water rince it slowly but surely. Afterwards, his hands now free of any shampoo, found the hunter's shoulders and massaged it slowly. Daryl did not say a word, apart from the few whimpers of content that occasionally left his mouth when his lover's hands were pressing on the right spots. When Paul's hands finally arrived around his hips, staying there for a few seconds before sliding lower, massaging his buttocks and then sliding in front, Daryl groaned. Paul's hands teased him for a while, sliding around the older man's semi erected cock without giving it the attention it deserved. Daryl moaned, bucking up against Paul's fingers when he finally grabbed his manhood, and the younger man chuckled.

« Ya bastard » whispered the hunter, closing his eyes when Paul began working his hands on his member just the way he liked it.  
« Doesn't look like I'm such a bastard right now » whispered his lover, chuckling and kissing his shoulder, just above a dark violet scar tainting his skin.

He tightened his grip on his lover's cock in a way he knew Daryl liked particularly, and smiled against the skin under his lips when he heard the moan he got in return. One thing Paul had been most surprised about was the fact that Daryl wasn't shy about his reactions when it came to sex. he had expected the man to be silent and reserved, but Daryl was always letting him know how good he felt

Paul had never been picky when it came to his lovers. As long as they were nice to him, at least a little bit funny and capable to make him laugh, that was all he needed. He had never really held himself to a high estime anyway, and had always been surprised when men wanted him. But Daryl was different. First, he was freaking handsome. When he had first laid eyes on the hunter, he had been taken aback by the redneck's strength and charm. He would lie if he said he didn't appreciate the view multiple times during the day, even when Daryl hit him in the face. So having this man in his bed, and most importantly in his life, was like a dream coming true for the young man. Never he had imagined finding himself in Daryl's bed, and certainly not that Daryl would have wanted him back. He had fallen hard and fast for the man, but never once regretted it.

« Paul » groaned Daryl when he played with the slit of his member, already dripping precome.

He could feel Daryl's strong arms shaking, and his own hard dick ached with need. He let go of Daryl's member, and the older man sighed with the loss.

« Turn around » whispered Paul, voice hoarse.

Daryl did, finding support on the wall behind him to be able to stand still on his shaky legs and fac his lover. Paul smiled lightly, getting on his knees in front of the other man who groaned at the thought of what was going to happen.

« Stil okay? » asked the younger man, putting his hands on Daryl's thighs to get some leverage.  
« Ya really asking? » groaned Daryl, panting heavily.

Jesus chuckled, using one of his hands to grip at the base of Daryl's cock, stroking it a few times before licking at the fat head, enjoying the taste of the precome sliding down the slit. Daryl was quite big, bigger than any of Paul's exes. He had been quite afraid at first, not that he ever told Daryl any of it. But seeing how big the man would grow when he was fully erected had scared him a bit, fearing that the redneck wouldn't let him get accustomed to his size like many men did. But it had came as a relief when the older man had confessed on their first night and not without shame, that he had never been with a man before. He had slept with a couple of girls before the apocalypse, to make sure that his brother wouldn't keep tracks on his friends, convinced that he was gay, but never had the occasion to actually do it with a man. So Paul had taught him how to finger him slowly, preparing him for his cock, how to stroke him the right way, and basically everything they had done so far. The older man was still a little shy when it came to some practices, but had managed to catch up pretty quickly and relax just as fast. And the sex was good, really good. Paul had actually forgotten how good it could feel when someone used his dick the right way, and Daryl was pretty amazing at aiming and grazing his prostate with his large member. Which explained their pretty intense sexual life, and the young man actually wondered how the others could actually ignore their relationship with the noises he made when Daryl went all animal on him.

« Yer killing me » whispered Daryl, mostly to himself when the younger man lapped his member once again before taking it in his mouth, as far as he could, covering the rest with his hand.

The hunter whined, putting his hands behind Paul's head, accompanying his movements without pushing, enjoying the tight, wet warmth of his boyfriend's mouth. He knew how much Paul loved to have him in his mouth, and he'd lie if he said he didn't like it. He was just a man, after all, and the feeling of Paul's tongue running down his member felt like heaven. But most of all, his lover's whines and moans when sucking him coupled with the obscene noises of the act made Daryl harder than rock.

A particularly loud suck made Daryl's knees buckle, and Paul backed away to chuckle.

« Ya're an ass » growled Daryl, deciding that he was close enough already to his climax, urging Paul to get up.

The younger man let go of his cock with a pout, liking at the tip a few more times before finding his way up Daryl's body with feather kisses on his thighs, belly and neck.

« I want ya » said the hunter, grabbing his lover's ass and pressing him flush against his body.  
« You got me babe » replied Paul, still liking at the droplet of water running down Daryl's neck.  
« Bedroom? »

The younger man moaned his appreciation for the idea, and soon they were both leaving the shower and finding their way through the bedroom. They had grabbed a towel on the way, and proceeded to dry themselves the best they could before falling on the sheets. It was kind of useless though, considering their long hair that wouldn't dry that easily, but it was worth trying. So when Daryl pushed his chuckling lover on the bed, his still dump hair spreading on the pillow below his head. His smiled made him look like a true angel, and Daryl tried not to voice this thoughts to avoid a cheeky smile for the next few days.

« You coming or what? » asked Paul, opening his legs to invite his lover between them.

And who was Daryl to refuse such a request? He crawled up Paul's body, licking at the little drops of water still shining on the other man's skin, paying extra attention to his nipples, because he knew how sensitive his lover was there. Paul bucked against him, groaning with pleasure when Daryl sucked the little buds in between his lips, playing with them until they were red, hard and swollen. He let go of them with a loud pop, before capturing Paul's lips with his own. They kissed for a while, almost lazily, their tongue playing each other for dominance. Then Paul broke the kiss, pushing Daryl's ass for their body to meet and to get some friction. Their cocks aligned, making them both moan with want, and Daryl grabbed the bottle of lube left under a pillow from the previous night.

« You sure you're good? » asked Daryl when he sat back on his heels, opening the cap of the bottle and pouring some on his fingers.  
« Yes, yes. Come on! »

Warming up the liquid a bit, Daryl grabbed at Paul's right leg to put it on his shoulder, finding a proper angle and bringing his fingers to Paul's entrance. The young man didn't tense when the fingertips grazed at his most private part, relaxed and trusting his lover with his body and heart. He laid back in the pillows beneath him, and moaned softly when Daryl's first finger breached him. The younger man arched his back, trying to get the intimate touch where he wanted it the most, on his swollen and oh so sensitive gland. Daryl chuckled, teasing his fluttering walls for a little while, kissing the inside of Jesus' ankle.

« Eager, are we? » asked the hunter with a small smile, mostly hidden behind his hair.  
« Shut up asshole » groaned Paul, arching in the pillow when his lover finally teased his soft spot. « Ah, fuck! »  
« That's the general idea sweetheart » purred Daryl.

Paul was too far gone in pleasure at this time to answer, so he just pinched Daryl's thigh, earning a little sound from the man.

« Ya better behave » warned the hunter in a groan.  
« Or what? »

The younger man was panting heavily, already undone. Daryl fingered the younger man for a little while, adding a second then third finger before whipping his hand on the bed sheets, letting Paul lube his cock with a groan. His dick was so hard it hurt, and his lover's hands were almost too much and not enough at the same time. When Paul was done lubing his dick, he pushed Daryl to turn around, staying on his knees, back to his lover. The hunter almost whimpered at the sight, because Paul knew how much he loved when they fucked like this. Sure, he loved when they made love. Sweet and tender love, spooning in the couch with barely no room to move their hips and find release. Enjoying the feeling, Daryl to be inside his lover and feel each reaction around his cock, and Jesus to feel his partner's hardness grazing his sweet spot without really pressing against it. Or when they were tired after a run, jerking each other off in a few embarrassing seconds because they were too tired to do anything else but at the same time wanted to feel each other's presence, because they were getting through another day together.

But sometimes, especially after a fight -though they did not fight really often, really, to their utter surprise; they loved to fuck hard and fast. Paul had always been attracted to his lover's animalistic behavior, and truth be told, he loved when Daryl was bringing the animal in the bedroom sometimes.

« Come here » groaned Paul, looking above his shoulder at Daryl.

The hunter used his knees to spread Paul's legs a little wider, and found his place between them. His erection grazed Paul's right cheek, and the younger man was the one to slip a hand between their bodies to grab it, and guide it inside him slowly but surely. They both sighed with content at the feeling, and Paul grabbed the headboard of the bed, bracing himself a little forward for Daryl to lay down against him.

« All good? » asked the hunter once again.

The other man didn't give him a straight reply, bucking up instead, for him to slide deeper inside. Daryl moaned his content, one of his hands grabbing Paul's hips while the other one played with his nipples. He felt his lover relax completely, breathing with content, and only then he allowed himself to let go of any restraints. He slipped out of his lover completely, before slamming back inside in a single thrust. Paul moaned, letting his hand fall on Daryl's shoulder, the hunter's deep and fast thrusts filling him in the most perfect way. His prostate was hit with almost every movement, and he couldn't stop moaning loud, not ashamed of his body's reactions. He knew Daryl loved when he moaned, anyway. Daryl used the hand who wasn't holding Paul by the hips to jerk his cock in rhythm with his thrusts, and Paul screamed his approval. Turning his head a little to the right, he searched for his lover's mouth. The kiss was wet and messy, mostly because of the pace Daryl was keeping, and because of the moans leaving both their mouths. It was mostly tongue and teeth, their lips wet with saliva, but it was perfect.

« Ah, Daryl » finally groaned the younger man, panting heavily. « I'm close… I'm so close… »

He broke the kiss to put his hands on the headboard once again, letting Daryl let go of his cock to grip his hips with two hands. Tights spread and ass raised in the air because of the position, Paul could almost blush with the sounds they were both making, the wet sounds of their body meeting and the way his cock was dripping on the once clean sheets. Daryl's thrusts were more erratic now, and with the way his voice broke when he moaned louder than before, Paul knew he was about to come.

It was a sight, to see Daryl find his pleasure and reach climax. The first time they had sex, the hunter had been so stressed by his inexperience that they had to stop, because his cock had softened and he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything but his shame. But Paul had been patient, taught him how good he could be with his mouth (one of Daryl's favorite thing in the world was to wake up with Paul's mouth around him, the man was way too good with his tongue) and fingers, and gradually, they had made love for the first time.

Now though, it was a totally different story. It was quite hard to believe that the man -or sex God, Paul couldn't decide in his current state of mind- behind him had been shy one day. He was taking initiatives now, and was way more relaxed than the first few times they had sex. And Paul's favorite thing to do during sex now was to look at Daryl's expression of pure bliss when he was reaching his climax. He loved everything about it. The way his most primal instinct was to thrust fast and hold himself deep inside his lover when he was coming, leaving no space between their bodies. He loved the soft whimpers the hunter would let go, most of the time in his neck or against his mouth. He loved how his body was shaking with each wave of come he was spurting inside his lover, and Paul loved the warmth of it inside his belly.  
Paul had always been a dirty bastard, but Daryl had released an even dirtier part of himself he had never thought about. And maybe he should have been ashamed of himself and his needs and desires, but the world was ending already. And if he was to go soon, it would be with the memory of his lovers between his thighs and no regrets in the back of his head.

« Paul » moaned Daryl, breath short.

His fingers tightened around Paul's hips, and after a few more thrusts, he was coming with a loud whimper. His body was shaking against Paul's, his hips flushed against his ass and his fronted falling between the younger man's shoulders. It was all it took for Paul to come as well, enjoying the tremors of his lover and the knowledge that he was the one to bring Daryl to orgasm. Paul had always been a little selfish when it came to sex, mostly because his previous partners were one night stand using him for their pleasure; but with Daryl, it was different. It had always been different, and he had never felt so much pleasure in the knowledge that his partner was pleased and satisfied.

Both men panted heavily, and finally they untangled their limbs to fall in the bed, a big smile on their faces.

« I guess the shower wasn't really useful » finally murmured Paul, running his fingers up and down Daryl's chest, which was still rising and falling quickly.  
« Humm » replied the other man, eyes fluttering open.

It was a vision, to see Daryl Dixon post coital. His cock softening against his thigh, his hair tangled and sweet running down his chest. Paul's chest felt tight, suddenly, and he had to blink a few times to chase the eventual tears away.

« I love you, Daryl Dixon » he finally said, breaking the silence between them.

Daryl looked at him, face blank but eyes soft and warm. He bit his lower lip, staring at the man in front of him for a long time before replying.

« I know. I love you too, prick. »


End file.
